Complexity Target
by Scarabbug
Summary: Maybe, at the root of it, their situations aren’t all that different. Or maybe the kid just wants an excuse to throw tyres at him. Short challenge fic, RPVerse. Unbetaed.


Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, scenarios or plotlines created in Ace Lightning. I am a part of the Role-play in which this particular plotline came about, involving Mark absorbing the power of the amulet to prevent a fight between Lady Illusion and Sparx, which as a result gradually begins to destroy him. Setting: RP-Verse, current scenario. See that for details.

Challenge written for Hyperpsychomaniac in a response to the challenge: "Hitting Random on the head with a car tyre"… amongst other things.

* * *

Complexity Target.

They shouldn't be here, but Random gave up on telling them that about an hour ago. Now he's really just trying to avoid them.

Or at least, he should be. He's made himself promise that. Which took a whole lot of focus and determination.

However, it started to get difficult, when the far end of the junkyard began to crumble into the next level and lose all consistency, shards of the Forbidden City of Magery seeping through the cracks. The last safe place in the Sixth Dimension and it too, was on the brink of falling apart.

His eyes are shut, he's standing with his back against a metal wall, gripping the metal tight in both hands. he looks like he's forcing himself used to shake, the way Random did back in the days that didn't really happen, when his body used to try and trick him into thinking his right hand was still there and making it hurt like a Gigaserpent's discharge to the gut.

'Kid, what're you…'

'Posting…' Mark says before Random can ask, which is slightly disturbing, that he knows what Random's thinking, that is. But then he shouldn't be surprised.

'What?' Random frowns.

'Online. You know, the net?' Random should know, he _had_ spent a day or two in there. 'I'm posting… stuff.'

'With… your head?' Random doesn't have to ask why Mark doesn't have the laptop. That's still with the Chuck, though it's proven to be an incredibly complicated piece of equipment to have in here. A machine within a machine, Random supposes. Of _course_ Mark's using his head. Crazy amulet.

Mark doesn't need a computer right now to access the web. He can do it with his mind… which is obviously painful. Or maybe the pain is coming from the several thousand kilowatts of Amulet energy currently turning his bones to static jello. Random can't be sure.

'You look like oblivion warmed up.'

He does, too. Or like Ace did, that time he caught Static Flu. If he turns his arms outwards by accident you can see the veins pulsing blue against his skin, dark and burning.

'Sorry, Random, but I think oblivion's already falling apart somewhere. Did you know that there's nothing left of the funhouse? I don't think… on maybe that's the gardens, on, what the heck, I can't be sure. There's too many file errors.'

'…Look, are you alright?'

Mark blinks at him. His eyes are yellow. This really bizarre, shadowed yellow colour. Not their usual…

What colour ARE his eyes, usually? Probably he same as Ace's. 'You sound confused.'

'Yeah. Says you.' Mark mutters. The better side of Random can't blame the mortal for his impatience. His worse side is thinking things along the lines of destruction.

'Stop thinking like that, will you?'

Random –both sides of him– blinks. 'what?'

'You're thinking about killing me, again. Tell it… I'm already dead. It doesn't need…'He stops. 'Just tell it to shut up for once, okay?'

'How do you know?'

'Does it matter?' Mark's expression creases, which isn't as clear an expression as it would be on a human. That's one thing he never realised about the human world. The huge variance in their expressions. He'd never really worried about that much in the old days, though, either. It was kind of hard to analyse the facial expressions of someone with half a computer for a face. But here it's not too difficult.

Who needs feelings anyway? certainly not the feelings those mortals usually have. Certainly not the kindness and the weakness and the stupid need to plug yourself into a power seam to prevent someone you care about from killing someone else you care when neither of them deserve—

'I said… stop it.'

Something hard thwacks him round the back of the head. Mark looks like he's trying not to laugh at that. If he starts to laugh he'll start to cough or something. Random doesn't want to think about what'll happen when _that_ starts getting worse, because this is sure as WHO _not_ going to be a pretty sight.

'Oh, very funny.'

'…Sorry. I didn't mean to do that.'

'Of course you didn't.' Random hesitates. The kid probably _really_ didn't, but the control has to start slipping somewhere. 'For now you're losing control of the telekinesis. I give you less than two hours before your data code starts to break—'

'I know, Random,' Mark interrupts. He doesn't, really, but Random can tell he'd rather not have the visuals to go with the pain. 'Guess you can relate to that one.'

'This is not the time for sulking and dwelling on the possibility. What's the matter with you, kid? Why did you _do_ that?'

'I don't know, maybe I'm just crazy?'

'Not what I meant. Do you want to die?'

Another tyre bounces past Random's ear, crackling with static. It only misses him because the tread is more manoeuvrable than it first appears.

'…This is ridiculous, kid. I know you wanted to stop the fight—'

Random dodges away from an out of control sharp of hubcap. Amazing he can still do that, given the replacement of his feet with something… bulkier.

'…But surely there was another way—'

A metal railing, right into his claw for him to knock away.

'To do it. You can't just—'

Disposed portable viewer to the stomach.

'…Okay, _that,_ you did on purpose.'

Mark actually smiles when Random says that. Which is weird, because this is not the time to be smiling. 'Can't prove that.' The words are punctured with a cough that sounds like a data file crashing, more like a machine than a mortal. And there's blue energy, shimmering, like liquid lightning, like the energy that drained out of Sparx when Googler sliced her open. Well. This makes sense. Fill your last hour with childish pranks, sure, mortal, that's just the way to go about it.

'Kid, think about what you're involved in. You realise, you've got a few hours to fix this?'

'What's there to think about, Random?' Mark snaps bitterly. Random's a little surprised by that. His other mind urges him to strike. He ignores it. Tries to ignore it. 'I did it, and now this has happened. My mistake. Nothing else I can do about it, just… deal with it.'

'Deal with it by _dying_?'

'If you've got an alternative then tell me.'

Random can't think. 'I can't believe you've gotten yourself into this. No, wait, yes I can,' he almost laughs, himself. 'You just like running into life or death, don't you.

'I didn't do this for the… adrenaline rush, if that's what you're saying. It is kind of cool, though.'

Another tyre crosses the junkyard floor and Mark's eyes follow it. Well, actually, he's pretty much in control of that one. He glances at Random.

This really is insane. And coming from Random, you knew that _had_ to be bad.

'Don't even think about it, brat.'

'What're you gonna do? Kill me?'

Silence, and Random had a whole three minutes to translate what Mark meant by that before Mark adds. 'Sorry, that wasn't fair.'

'Damn right it wasn't. Do you ever think about these things before you d— say them?'

'Of course I do. Just not very well.'

'Not very well. Of course. You didn't think about the other people and what it'd do to them, did you? The mortals?' Completely textbook, he knows. Guilt trip them into survival. He's heard it all before. Or at least, his program remembers hearing it all before. Whether it actually happened is another matter, but…

Just speed up the process and destroy the brat now, before he starts throwing anything else.

No. No time to think about that, now.

'Did you think about what this'll do to _them_, kid? If you wipe out, did you give a damn as to what they would think? What this'll do to your friends? Ace? Sparx? Your family?'

'…That's kind of all the same thing, Random.' Random blinks, understanding the point, but not the person it's coming from. 'What do you think I was just posting. I'm trying to explain.'

'No, kid, you're trying to make excuses,' Random says, bluntly. '_Explaining_ is for making people understand why things happen the way they do. _Excuses_ are about you making yourself feel better about it.'

Mark raises an eyebrow.

'Oh, so you do think about this stuff?'

He did? Of course he did. Random thought. Random didn't have any choice but to think. All the time, about living and killing and hurting and fear and hope and courage and cowardice and breaking bones and disintegrating programs and how much easier those last two would be, not that he'd ever give into that. Or maybe he would. He can't be sure.

This is something he's always has to think about and he didn't need some… some mortal coming along and thinking he could fix things. Forcing _Random_ to try and fix things when he knows he can't. Nothing had ever fixed it before.

Mark's telekinetic waves throw the tyre at him and Random smacks it away before it can hit. Mark doesn't move. 'Strike,' he mumbles under his breath and he almost smiles at Random again.

Random knows he should leave. His evil side is wanting to kill. He doesn't want to make any deaths happen sooner than they're already going to.

'You're a fool, Mark. A fool for everything. You realise that, don't you?'

'Yeah, thanks for the insight. Are you gonna… move, or try and kill me again?'

Random waits for a good four minutes before making his decision and takes the opportunity to try and read the kids face. There's a lot of fear there –_cowardice_– and anger –_restrained, useless_–perhaps, somewhere under it, there's even just a trace of hope –_and that's just plain ridiculous_– but Random's not sure if that's about him or the kid himself.

'Why're you here, Random?'

Good question. Random can't think of an answer. Sparx is around here somewhere, though, and he knows how Ace will feel if anything happens to her. _If anything happens to any of them_. But his evil doesn't care about that. He's not here about Lady Illusion, (they've been here together long enough for him to know better than to approach her. for the most part they avoid each other anyway). The other brat just won't come near him and more than once, Random has considered walking out of the junkyard to get away from them and reduce the threat he poses. He's never sure if it's his evil sides' lust for destruction, or his own, better sense of judgement which knows they might actually need his help, which brings him back.

'To see you die,' both sides of him say at once, in slightly different tones.

Mark nods, sitting down besides the metal railing and gazing up at random with an unbroken stare. 'Yeah. Thought as much.'

The telepathic aftershocks send another tyre rolling across the junkyard. Random doesn't try to stop it, this time.


End file.
